


All Thanks to Ernie Macmillan

by DeathOfABacheLarrY, Perish_this_Pigeon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Angst, Drarry, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Ernie Ships It, Fluff, Help, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hufflepuff Pride, I meant ANGST, M/M, Minor Character Recognition, My First Work in This Fandom, New Writer, Post-Battle of Hogwarts, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Remember When I Said Fluff?, Romantic Face Punching, Romantic Fluff, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, The Author Regrets Nothing, Utter Romantic Nonsense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-14 10:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28919397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathOfABacheLarrY/pseuds/DeathOfABacheLarrY, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perish_this_Pigeon/pseuds/Perish_this_Pigeon
Summary: It's an unconventional 8th Year at Hogwarts. And Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are squished into a dorm, forced to cope with moving beyond Voldemort's influence after the Battle of Hogwarts. And they have two fanboys, Terry Boot and Ernie Macmillan. Also Draco punches Harry in the face. Fluff and dare-I-say-angst ensues.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 18





	1. From the Desk of Minerva McGonagall

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all!
> 
> I am a new writer here on Ao3. This is my first fanfiction. I do lots of stuff from League of Legends fics to Marvel to Harry Potter. Please give me suggestions and requests! Also check out my friend DeathOfABacheLarrY for you One Directioners.
> 
> Now on to the fluff. Lots and lots of fluff.

June 30, 1998  
To our esteemed parents and students,

As you may know, the 1997-1998 school year at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been greatly disrupted by the return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and the recent Battle of Hogwarts.  
We mourn for those who sacrificed their lives for our safety, whether they be students, relatives, strangers, or teachers. They will all be honored, and may they rest in peace.  
To recompense for the damage done to this institution, the school governors have decreed that the previous school year be repeated by all students. Incoming first year students will join the ranks of those who are repeating. The school year will still commence on August 31st, as per usual.  
Certain individuals have also brought to our attention the great division brought by our house sorting. It made students turn upon students in the Battle of Hogwarts, and cause alienation; that there are only four houses here at Hogwarts.  
Therefore, the school governors have also decreed that current House plans be abolished. We will still have sortings, however, dorms will now contain one student from each of the four houses. There will be no more house tables, every student will feel free to sit wherever they want during meals. Classes will be similarly mixed, though point scoring systems will remain the same. We hope that this will encourage unity among our student body, and therefore in the future of the wizarding world.  
I end this letter with a warning. I am well aware that many of you reading this now will greatly disagree with these new policies, and will wish to express these opinions. If you disagree with these rules to such extent, please do not hesitate to take your children out of school. These new policies are final.

Best regards,  
Minerva McGonagall,  
Headmistress of Hogwarts


	2. King's Cross Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the beginning of our Eighth Year! The ship is having a rocky start.
> 
> When I typed George I almost added "and Fred" and now I'm sad.

Standing before the entrance to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Harry could almost believe that it was a normal year.

Swarms of muggles still swarmed the station, blissfully ignorant of the world that lay just steps away. Harry had his trolley loaded with his new broomstick and trunk. Hermione and Ron standing besides him. With a pang, Harry realized the only thing missing was Hedwig. She would have been in her cage atop his trunk, head tucked under her wing.

“Oi! Harry, how long does it take to walk through a bloody wall?” Ron fumed.

“Relax Ron, he’s just taking it all in. An eighth year is unusual, but it’s exciting, isn’t it?” said Hermione.

“Yeah.” Harry started forward in a run, pushing his trolley before him, until he was moments before crashing into the ticket box…

And then he stumbled into the familiar mist of Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Heavy steam wafted from the engine, clouding all the figures before him, and only slightly muffling all of the hubbub.

He could see Neville Longbottom, this time securely holding onto Trevor the Toad, surrounded by a crowd of admirers. His fame from the events of the Battle of Hogwarts apparently still hadn’t worn off. Harry smiled a bit. Neville was getting the recognition he deserved.

George was standing off next to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, ready to send off Ginny. He could see Luna Lovegood in the distance, with several DA members. Judging from their confused looks and Luna’s wild gestures, she was reenacting the Erumpet/Crumple Horned Snorkack Horn explosion in her house from the past spring.

Ron and Hermione stumbled to a stop besides him.

“It feels good to be back, doesn’t it?” Harry asked.

“It’ll feel even better to have a meal in the Great Hall, for sure.” Ron licked his lips.

“It really does,” Hermione agreed. “Oh right! That reminds me, I agreed to loan Mr. Weasley some muggle books, I’ll be right back.”

She hurried away in the direction of the Weasleys.

“Right, should we go get a carriage?” asked Ron.

“Could you go ahead? I’m sorry, I just sort of--” Harry gestured vaguely.

Ron seemed to understand. “Maybe we can share a compartment with Neville.” He walked off.

Harry wandered towards the scarlet engine of the train, lost in his thoughts. If Remus and Sirius were here, would they send him off? He could imagine Sirius’s joy at being able to roam in his human form. Tonks would be there, with her “Wotcher Harry”, and Mad-Eye would be there, gruff and grizzled as ever.

Harry thought that everything would have ended with the death of Voldemort. But for all the lives he had saved, there were still so many he had lost… He knew that Sirius and Lily and James and Tonks and Remus and Mad-Eye would all want him to move on…

“Constant vigilance,” Harry said out loud.

He saw some people shoot him odd looks. Then glance back at him, eyeing his forehead particularly. He was thankful that there seemed to be no reporters at the station.

Then he saw them, huddled together against the fogged up engine, as far away from other people as possible. Draco Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry could see an empty radius around them. Clearly they were just as despised as Harry was admired.

Clearly the fall of Voldemort had also had an effect on them. Narcissa still cradled her progeny protectively, except she had heavy purple marks under her eyes, and seemed frailer than ever, like a porcelain doll. Draco stared down passersby defiantly. But Harry noted that with his even paler blond hair and skin, he could be a ghost in the thick fog from the train.

Then he saw Harry, shooting him an icy glare. Emerald and pearl grey eyes clashed for a moment, before Harry quickly turned and hurried away to find Ron.

It seemed that there were still some things that Harry couldn’t move on from, no matter how hard he tried.


	3. Hogwarts Express (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whoops! Wrong compartment!
> 
> The author doesn't know how to invent new tropes.
> 
> "Dear, sweet, Boy Who Lived." You know sometimes even I hate myself.

King’s Cross vanished in a flash of silver and brown as the Hogwarts Express roared out of the station, a great scarlet serpent flashing through the British country.

Harry found Ron and Hermione in a compartment near the back, with Luna.

“Harry! Why hello, me and Hermione were just having an enlightening discussion over the existence of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks,” Luna beamed.

“With all due respect Luna, that was an Erumpet horn! How many times must I tell you--” said Hermione.

“Well if you continue like that, you’ll be telling me Blibbering Humdingers aren’t real either,” 

“Actually--”

Harry quickly turned to Ron. “You weren’t able to get Neville over?”

“No, he has this whole ‘hero club,’” Ron mimed air quotes. “Ernie Macmillan dragged him off to get an autograph. Though I ‘spect he’ll come over soon.”

Harry took a seat. “I think I can understand that.”

“Well come on, I think you’ve had multiple fan clubs all your life.”

“Even more now. I get letters from Rita Skeeter daily.”

“Oh yeah!” Ron started pulling something out of his pocket. “Speaking of dear old Rita, guess what I found in the Daily Prophet.”

He handed him a cut-out scrap, which had an image of the Malfoy Manor.

“Lucius Malfoy, the notorious Death Eater,” Harry read, “One of You-Know-Who’s most devoted, is set to spend the rest of his days rotting in Azkaban, for his egregious crimes in the recent war. ‘I’m absolutely delighted,’ stated an interviewee, ‘Always buying people out and blackmailing--of course, I’m much too noble to accept such offers--’

As you may know, Malfoy has a single son and spouse, Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. Rumored to have gone completely insane due You-Know-Who’s fall and her husband’s imprisonment, Narcissa Malfoy is said to be put under strict monitoring by the Ministry of Magic.

‘I hear howling and clanging from that wretched house every night,’ said one of their neighbors. ‘And I swear I saw her marching around her garden once with a pie over her head.’

The son, Draco Malfoy, is said to be a great antagonist of our dear, sweet, Boy Who Lived, and has closely followed his footsteps in becoming a Death Eater, scheming, and some say even striking the final blow, in the death of Albus Dumbledore. He is expected to return to Hogwarts this year.

This brings the question: Should such vile beings even be permitted to interact with normal wizarding society?”

“By Rita Skeeter,” concluded Ron.

Harry sat back in his seat.

“Well, what do you think?” asked Ron.

“Well, I think it’s horrible,” declared Hermione.

“What?! Hermione, the Malfoys tried to make our lives--Harry’s life--hell since they first set eyes on him!” Ron spluttered.

“It doesn’t matter who she writes about, Rita Skeeter is a gossip-monger and I can’t stand anything she writes.” Hermione sniffed.

“Well it serves Malfoy right, after what he did in our fourth year!”

“To be honest, I feel bad for him. Especially his mother.” Luna said absentmindedly. “People call me and Father mad all the time, I’d never wish it upon anyone else.”

“But Luna, you’re not a Malfoy!” said Ron.

“Well, Harry is his archenemy. Maybe we should ask him.” Hermione proposed.

Everyone turned to him.

“I don’t know,” Harry’s hand traced his scar. “I saw them, Malfoy and his mother, at King’s Cross.”

“And?” Hermione urged.

“I don’t know. I guess it feels like some sort of justice.”

“See? I told you, Hermione.” Ron smirked.

“ I still don’t know though.” Harry stood up. “I think I’ll go find Neville.”

He mumbled an apology and quickly left the compartment. Why did Malfoy bother him so much? He couldn’t try to ruin Harry’s life anymore, after all, Harry was the one who had triumphed. The Malfoys had gotten what they deserved.

But the image of the pale ghost huddled at the end of the station platform reminded Harry of an eleven year old child huddled in a cupboard under the stairs…

Harry entered the next carriage. Seeing an empty compartment, he quickly slammed the door shut and sat down to catch his breath, to think.

But then Draco Malfoy pulled open the compartment door.


	4. Hogwarts Express (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has occurred to the author that they do not know how to write fluff.
> 
> Can't help you there, I'm more entitled to sad angst -DOABLY

“Potter?!”

“Augh!” Harry jumped up and hastily fumbled his wand out of his jean pocket. “I should ask you the same, Malfoy. Were you just waiting to ambush me?”

“What? No, Potter, this is my compartment. Why are you in my compartment?” Malfoy demanded.

“I didn’t know this was your compartment!” Harry flushed.

“Well now you do! Clearly you still think everything belongs to you, barging into people’s compartments like that! Now get out!”

Harry marched towards him. “Or what, you’ll go tell your father?”

He saw Malfoy stiffen, something like hurt or regret written over his face. Harry knew this was a low blow, and Malfoy knew too. His father was in Azkaban. Malfoy would never see him again. He’d never tell anything to him again either.

It filled Harry with a sort of dark satisfaction. Now was his chance to storm out, to leave Malfoy speechless and wounded. But he didn’t move. Ron’s words played in his head, Malfoy was their enemy… An enemy that was now defeated. Hermione was right too, Draco was almost someone to feel sorry for. In an odd way, Harry could understand him. Draco was trying to escape Voldemort and their shared past as much as Harry was.

The silence stretched out between them, almost tangible.

“Sorry. That was low of me,” Harry pushed past him into the corridor.

He heard footsteps chasing after him, then felt a hand on his shoulder. Draco Malfoy turned Harry back around to face him. “Now listen here Potter, this is a final warning. I don’t want to see your bloody heroic face anywhere in my sight when we’re in school. I won’t talk to you, you better not talk to me, if you do, I will not hesitate to inflict any damage to your bloated head. Understand?”

His stark grey eyes burned into Harry’s own. He quickly nodded, and Malfoy released him. Harry watched him storm back into his compartment and slam the door shut with a bang.

Harry saw people peering out of their doors at him standing alone in the corridor. He could almost hear the whispers.

"Was he threatening him?" "What was Malfoy up to this time?" "Is Harry ok?"

There was another hand on his shoulder, and Harry jumped. "Hey, are you ok?" Ernie Macmillan's cheerful face beamed at Harry.

"I'm ok, thanks Ernie. I, uh, need to get back to my own compartment."

"Are you sure?" To Harry's dismay, Ernie started following him. "I heard shouting and got worried, what did Malfoy do? You know what I always say, even though the war's over, you need to persevere through the aftermath, there's always going to be lots of grudging Death Eaters, I'll tell you that. In fact..."

Harry tuned out the rest of his jabber as they continued into the next carriage.

"...You know Harry, Hannah though you guys were having a duel, with all the noise. But then, do you know what vulgar thing Justin said? He said you guys might even have been, well, snogging." Ernie remarked.

"WHAT?!" Harry yelled.

"Yep, snogging!" Ernie grinned. "Personally, I think Justin watched too much American television last year in New Jersey, I'll tell you Harry, I simply can't understand..."

Harry could still feel his face flushing. Him, and--and Malfoy, snogging?

Yes, Justin had definitely watched too much American television last year.


	5. Dorm Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Go get your clothes and change in the bathroom, Harry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This slow burn is like trying to roast a ham in winter sunlight. BUT WHATEVER. We'll get there.
> 
> (Also Malfoy is stubborn and keeps on acting like some sort of angsty vampire, but we'll coax him out eventually)

During the carriage ride up to the castle, Harry could see so many more faces recoiling from the new sight of the Thestrals… it seemed too soon that the first years were being sorted, then crowding around the numerous small tables, under the star-speckled ceiling of the Great Hall, where the candles still floated and everyone drowned themselves in treacle tart and gravy.

Then there was the shouting of the prefects, and the individual eight years all funneled towards different exits. Harry quickly grabbed on to Hermione and Ron to avoid getting swept away in the crowd of bodies. Up a staircase, then turning right, left, then right again, it seemed that a wing of classrooms had been renovated to become the new dorms. 

“Hello? Hello? Can I have your attention? Ahem!” Professor Flitwick squeaked, conjuring a footstool to stand on.

“Right then. I am, as many of you know, Professor Fillius Flitwick, teacher of Charms here at Hogwarts. I am the head of the eighth year, and I welcome you all.”

“It’s like how Mcgonagall was the head of Gryffindor,” whispered Hermione.

“Now, I will be dividing you all into your dorm rooms. Girls on this side--” he pointed to the left “--and boys on the other side.”

“All right, I’m going to call out your name and dorm number! Hannah Abott, dorm five! Susan Bones, dorm one!”

“D’you suppose we’ll be in a dorm together, Harry?” Ron muttered.

“I doubt it,” said Hermione, “There’s only one student from each house in a dorm.”

“Oh, that’s too bad,” Ron sighed.

“Who would you want to be with, anyway?” Harry asked.

“I dunno, but I did see Goyle earlier. Wouldn’t want to be with him,” said Ron.

“Or Zacharias Smith.”

“Justin Finch-Fletchley’s back, he’d be all right to room with.”

Harry thought back to the incident on the train, “Yeah, Justin…”

“Hermione Granger, dorm five!” Flitwick wheezed.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow at breakfast,” Hermione waved goodbye.

“Flitwick sounds like he’s almost out of breath,” Harry observed.

“He sounds like one of Fr--George’s trick wands,” Ron half laughed.

“Harry Potter, dorm three!”

“Right, see you Ron!”

Harry pushed through the now much smaller crowd and turned right. The dorm doors had brass numbers on them, he entered the one that had a three. There was a small common area, and behind that a door which he presumed led to the actual beds.

“Harry!” Ernie beamed. “We’re roommates! What an honor, what an honor my good fellow! And look, Terry’s here too!”

Terry Boot waved at Harry. “Hey. Me and Ernie agreed to leave you the second four-poster there on the right.”

“Right Harry. So. I have a tiny thing to talk to you about.” Ernie pulled him aside.

“It’s not really tiny,” Terry interrupted.

“I take your constructive criticism to the heart, Terry,” Ernie yelled. His face grew serious again. “So, the not-really-tiny thing we have to talk to you about is our fourth roommate. We meant no harm, but we gave you the bed next to him because we thought that you, as Harry Potter, would probably be able to handle things better.”

Harry got a sinking feeling in his gut. Not Goyle, not Goyle, not Goyle…

“It’s Draco Malfoy.”

Harry cursed under his breath.

“Yeah, it’s an issue. But me and Terry don’t really want to face him, Malfoy’s, well, Malfoy, y’know. Not that we’re hanging you out to dry or anything but… he’s sort of, uh, scary.” Ernie said sheepishly.

Harry groaned inwardly. Of course it had to be Malfoy (Author’s note: OF COURSE it had to be, that’s the whole point, so suffer suffer fall in love, Mr. Potter.)

“I’m going to get ready for bed.”

When Harry went to change into his nightclothes, he could see the bed that was Malfoy’s with its curtains tightly drawn, save for a small crack. Harry could almost feel that ice cold glare driving into his skin. He quickly gathered up his things and went to change in the bathroom.


End file.
